Shattered
by RadiantBeam
Summary: On the morning of the fourth day, her fever broke. And Zuko wondered if this meant she'd finally return to the way she used to be. Mai x Zuko Rated to be safe
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Zuko and Mai. I am merely playing with them.

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**Shattered**

_Prologue_

Her world has shrunk down to contain only the darkness, the sound of the rats skittering through the old dungeon, the gentle dripping of water and the footsteps of the guard outside her cell. He passes by in the hallway every night; she knows only because she doesn't sleep much anymore.

She rarely has visitors anymore. Only two people come to her with any real regularity, that pink-loving girl and the prodigy with golden eyes like twin suns. They introduce themselves by name when they visit, but she never acknowledges it in her mind. In her mind, they're just what they appear to be—a girl wearing pink and a girl with golden eyes.

In other cells she hears prisoners rambling, their minds lost long ago due to confinement. Someone has gotten their hands on what sounds like a ball and is bouncing it against the wall. If she actually pays it any mind, the sound would be maddening.

But in a distant past that is as murky to her as polluted water, she knows that keeping quiet and ignoring distractions is extremely important. She heeds it because it's almost instinct now in her blank mind.

She leans back against the wall and gazes up at the ceiling, closing her eyes. Her stomach rumbles faintly with hunger, but she knows the guard will come by soon enough with his rations, and he'll probably torture her a bit to see if she'll cave. As simplistic as her nature has become, she still refuses to gobble food down like a wild beast. She still has some dignity left, scant as it is.

Opening her eyes, she tilts her head slightly and studies the barred window high above her head. Small, weak beams of sunlight break through the bars, leaving scattered sunbeams on the dusty floor. To her limited knowledge she is the only prisoner with a window in her cell, and she wonders if her third nightly visitor is showing some odd favoritism.

She shudders and beats back the memories before they fully arise and take shape.

There _is _a reason she doesn't sleep much anymore. In fact, there are two reasons.

There's also a reason why she's still alive after so much time in the darkness, still alive after surviving only on cruelly small rations and nightly visits from the tall, muscular man with golden eyes like that one girl who claims to be her friend.

There is a reason, but her mind has blanked out much of her life before her time in the dungeon so she no longer recalls it clearly. She just remembers a voice, words, but no face to go with it.

But the voice is oddly soothing, like she's heard it somewhere before, and she clings to this fragile memory as though afraid that the sands of time will sweep in and bury it, ripping the last shard of her past from her, the last remnant of the person she used to be.

"_I'll come back. I swear I will. Just… wait for me, and I'll come back for you."_

So she waits. She doesn't really know why she waits anymore, or who she waits for, but she waits anyway.

Waiting is her only reason for still being alive anyway.

She notes quietly that the guard has decided not to grace her prison cell today, and she can see the sunbeams on the floor starting to darken and fade away. Night is coming.

Her ears perk up at the sound of footsteps coming her way; but no, these footsteps are too light and quick to be made by the guard, but they're still heavy enough to not qualify for the pink-clad girl or the girl with golden eyes.

Her eyes widen as she crunches up into a ball, trying her best to shrink into the corner. Tremors race through her body, staring at her head and traveling down her spine, spreading throughout her system until she's shaking like a leaf.

In the past, when she was first imprisoned, she used to fight back—with her nails, her teeth, anything it took to keep _him _away from her, to keep _him _from touching her, kissing her…

But now she knows fighting is useless, because _his _domination over her is inevitable, like a never ending cycle that repeats every night and no matter what she does it will never break.

She is _his _prisoner, and they both know it.

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The moon was only a crescent in the cloudy night sky, bathing everything below in dark shadows and blackness. It was under this cover that he moved, Zuko of the Fire Nation, traitor to his people and savior of his uncle's life.

Iroh's announced execution date had been the fire that caused Zuko to finally make some move against his father, as he refused to let his uncle die right before his eyes. Freeing the old man had been his first step, and fleeing had been his second.

He would have settled down with his uncle when Iroh reached a small Earth Kingdom village, but he still had one more person to retrieve before he could go back and start building a life there.

Moving slowly, he kept his body low to the ground in the hopes of putting some speed into his gait. Keeping silent would help him go in and out quickly, without alerting anyone to his presence.

At least, he hoped so.

He stepped on a twig.

The snapping of the small wooden object sounded like a fire blast in the dead silence of night and Zuko flinched, cursing softly. Any patrols lurking nearby were certain to hear the small noise and come investigate, because that was their job, what they'd been trained to do. To think they wouldn't come would be like committing suicide without even trying.

Already he could hear the shouts, could hear them coming towards him. He bared his teeth in frustration. _Damn._ He hadn't wanted to fight, not tonight of all nights. His back bumped against a tree, causing him to jolt in surprise.

_Damn!_

So he had no choice, after all. He reached for his broadswords.

The next instant a pair of warm arms hooked along his shoulder and neck, pulling him up into the tree with startling speed. An almost womanly yelp escaped Zuko, but his savior's hand clapped over his mouth before it could even pass his lips. He choked and whimpered regardless.

"My goodness, you're jumpy." The soft voice that sounded in his ear was almost amused. "I'm trying to save your life, you know. Don't make me pressure point you to keep you still."

"T-Ty Lee?!"

"SHHHH!"

With the grace that only an acrobat could possess, the pink-clad girl deposited Zuko on the tree branch and sank back against the trunk, panting. "You're heavy," she rasped. "Did you gain a few pounds while you were away?"

"HEY! I didn't expect to be pulled into a tree, either!"

"Keep it down!"

Ty Lee pushed her hair out of her eyes, leaning forward to peer through the tree leaves to the forest floor below. Her whole body was unusually tense and strung like a bow, and the quiet tension she contained unnerved Zuko.

"Good, they're leaving," she murmured. "Probably just think it was an animal or something." She looked up, rocking back on her heels, and grinned. "That was a close one even for you, Zuko."

"Hey now, wait a minute…"

In an instant, the good humor melted from Ty Lee's face, and quiet determination had replaced it. "You came back to get Mai, right?"

"What? How did you..?"

"It's written all over your face… lover boy." A teasing note flitted briefly through her voice. "Azula intercepted a messenger hawk carrying news of your return and sent me out here to get you and help you out." She frowned a moment. "Actually, she never told me what she did to that hawk either. I should probably ask, the guy who takes care of them has been looking for it…"

Ty Lee didn't have much time to contemplate this, as Zuko was suddenly gripping her shoulders. She jolted and squirmed at the sudden, slightly painful touch. "Ow! Hey…"

"Wait, what do you mean Azula _sent _you to help me? Mai's still with her family, isn't she? She'd gone back to them when I left."

She stared for a moment. "Still with her family? You don't…?"

The next instant the acrobat twisted free of his hold, stepping back and staring at him with wide eyes. A small tremor rippled through her body and she closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Azula said you wouldn't know," she admitted. "I was hoping she'd be wrong, but…"

"Know? Know what? What am I supposed to know? Ty Lee, what happened to Mai?!"

She said nothing; finally, Ty Lee bit her lip.

"You… follow me, okay, Zuko?" Her voice was unusually subdued. "I'll take you to where Mai is. Just… she isn't really herself anymore, so be ready."

"Not herself…?"

Ty Lee turned away, leaping to another tree branch.

"You'll see what I mean."

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Please be kind to an inexperienced novice attempting to write her first "dark" Avatar fic. And I do mean that. This story will be dark, probably the most mature fiction I've tried to write so far in regards to Maiko or any other pairing, so please bear with me here.

I would also like to thank Cat (Fearlessgurl283) for taking the time to discuss the basic plot of this story with me and helping me clarify some things to myself. I can honestly say this wouldn't have been written if not for her, so this fic itself is for her.

Read and review, please!


	2. The Broken

_Disclaimer: _I don't own Avatar. I just enjoy torturing its characters.

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_Chapter 1: The Broken_

Had he put some thought into it, Zuko would have admitted to himself that this was not the way he had expected his night to go. Leaping clumsily from tree branch to tree branch, keeping his eyes glued on the pink form ahead, had been the very last thought on his mind.

And her words…

"_She isn't really herself anymore, so be ready."_

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" he murmured.

Nothing answered him.

Overhead the wind blew, and a dark cloud drifted across the moon, darkening its silver rays until only shadows remained.

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Ty Lee paused briefly to catch her breath, resting one hand against the tree trunk as the branch curved slightly beneath her weight. Rolling her shoulders, she studied the backside of the Fire Nation prison, listening as Zuko cursed at some small twig caught in his sleeve.

A small unknown fun fact was that a forest flanked the prison, most likely left intact to make it difficult for prisoners to break out and escape, or be rescued. Unknown to the ones who had chosen to leave the forest be was that Ty Lee had spent the last two weeks racing through the grass, leaping from branch to branch, familiarizing herself with every nook and cranny the forest contained.

The main reason had been Azula's order, since she'd known for about three weeks before tonight that Zuko was on his way home to retrieve Mai and she'd wanted Ty Lee to know her way around the darkness and trees if worse came to worse.

The acrobat rocked back on her heels, ignoring Zuko as he scrambled ungracefully to her side, trying to judge how much time had passed by the flames she could glimpse flickering in the hallway. It was really late, almost midnight, if she judged the moon's position in the sky…

_Shoot… if it's almost midnight, he might still be in there… and if he's in there, Zuko can't be seen… but if he just left… Mai might not be thinking clearly…_

"Ty Lee?"

"Stay here. I'll be right back."

Ignoring Zuko's hissed protest, Ty Lee dropped down and swung easily from the branch, swinging from tree to tree before landing on an outcrop jutting out of the prison; for a precarious moment she wavered, both arms held out to balance her against the wind, and her footing steadied. Placing one foot cautiously in front of the other she walked along the edge, grabbing a spike and swinging down to the barred window. Uttering a prayer, she released her hold and as she fell grabbed on to the bars seconds before she would have crashed through thin air, planting her feet firmly against the wall.

Her shoulders trembled with strain, and ignoring the slow burn that was building she pulled herself up and pressed her ear against the bars, listening.

The cell was silent, safe the soft, uneven sound of ragged breathing. Ty Lee frowned. Judging by that, it seemed he'd just left, but to be on the safe side… Curling one hand into a fist, she tapped it lightly against the bars to an old Fire Nation lullaby.

The next instant she yelped and flattened to the side as a small pebble whistled through the air, missing her by mere inches. "Jeez," she muttered, swinging back to the bars, "I see you haven't lost your touch at all…"

A soft laugh sounded in the cell, but it was more amused than mad. Contrary to popular belief, Mai hadn't lost her sanity; no, she'd lost something else. The lullaby-pebble was something Ty Lee had developed with her during the three weeks she memorized the forest, a way the acrobat could know for sure if Mai was alone or not. If Mai threw a pebble (or whatever else was in the cell), she was alone. If she didn't, she was… otherwise preoccupied.

Shuddering a little, satisfied, Ty Lee swung back to Zuko, causing the exiled prince to jolt and yelp when she landed next to him again. "Hey! What're you…?"

"Come on." She grinned at him. "All's clear. The sooner I get you in, the sooner you get Mai out of there."

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She feels the laugh bubbling in her throat as the pink-clad girl mutters darkly, and she doesn't fight it. It feels good to laugh, to hear the sound leave her lips and not detect that trace of madness she's heard in so many others. The amusement it contains is music to her ears, and she relishes it. It's a comfort to her, to know that she hasn't lost her sanity alongside her freedom and virginity.

The blood seeps between her legs and makes her ache when she tries to shift, but it's a shallow flow and will likely cease in a few minutes. She knows that she really shouldn't be bleeding since the first time _he _pierced her, held her down as she struggled and entered her, his painful warmth causing her to scream as though she was being burned. Nowadays she only bleeds when she struggles against him, and tonight she wasn't feeling particularly compliant.

Curiosity gets the better of exhaustion, and she doesn't close her eyes. Why did the lively girl hang outside her window, anyway? Why does she want to know if she's alone? It's all so strange, and out of the ordinary.

But then, she hates being bored.

Her lips curve in a bitter smirk.

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"Zuko… do you remember what I said before? About… about Mai."

Ty Lee's soft voice caused Zuko to look up at her as the two crept cautiously down the hallway, keeping their eyes peeled for any guards. He frowned. "Yeah, I remember," he said. "But what does it mean? You weren't being very specific."

"Uh… look, I'm not very good at this…"

"There you are."

The new voice caused them both to jolt, and Ty Lee let out a small, almost doglike whine of relief. "Azula," she breathed. "You scared me."

The Fire Nation princess reclined easily against the wall beside the cell Ty Lee had told Zuko was Mai's, her arms crossed loosely along her chest as she studied the pair with cool, narrow golden eyes. She straightened, dusting off her shoulders. "You're late," she said, walking toward them. "I was starting to worry."

"Sorry. I had to check and make sure Mai was alone."

Azula raised a brow. "If Mai wasn't alone, I wouldn't be here right now."

"Sorry…"

Zuko had enough. "What in the name of _Agni _is going on here?!" he shouted, pushing past Ty Lee to face his sister, muscles tense and eyes flaming. "Ty Lee said… and you… _Where's Mai_?"

Azula studied him, still cool and composed; she turned her head and nodded briefly at the cell door. "Mai is in there," she replied coolly. "Don't worry, she's healthy as an ostrich horse. Father's been especially adamant about that." She shrugged, studying her nails. "But then, she's his new toy so I doubt he wants her to die anytime soon."

"New… toy?"

"Oh, that's right, you don't know. I'll give you a brief rundown. After you ran off with Uncle, Father starting imprisoning people who might know where you'd gone. Mai was at the top of his list, naturally, but she's resilient and didn't break as easily as he would have liked, so she became his… _personal _project."

Had Azula shown no outward trace of emotion, Zuko would have been almost disgusted in the way she presented the facts; but as he watched, he could see her hands trembling just slightly with barely controlled rage. As though she sensed this as well, Ty Lee quietly slipped to her old friend's side, taking her hand and giving a gentle squeeze.

"Father was going quite mad, trying to figure out where you'd disappear to. So he wasn't exactly logical in his methods when he took Mai as a personal project." Azula ran her free hand through her hair to still her trembling. "I figure you're a smart boy, Zuzu, so I'll use as few words as possible when I say this: ever since you left, Father has been visiting Mai every night in her cell."

A chill swept through Zuko like an icy wind, gripping his heart and seeming to freeze his insides. Even though Azula hadn't been detailed, though she left much of it to his imagination, he _knew._

_He knew._

_MAI!_

Without thinking, he lunged for the door; sensing his intent, understanding it but thinking of the girl in the cell, Azula wrenched free of Ty Lee's hold and jumped between the door and Zuko's hand, grabbing his wrist and twisting roughly.

"Idiot!" she hissed, eyes flashing. "Don't you get it? Mai isn't in her right mind, Zuko. She isn't even _Mai _anymore. Charging in there will just result in one or both of you getting hurt."

"She'd never—"

"She isn't the way you remember her, Zuko! Father… she'd fight you to the death to protect herself if you just ran in there! Zuko…"

Azula's hold on his wrist loosened slightly, though she didn't let go.

"… Zuko, the way she is, I can honestly say she'd kill you if you startled her."

Seeing he understood, Azula slowly released him, burrowing into a bag slung along her shoulder; she shoved a small package into Zuko's hands. "Take that."

"What…?"

"Father confiscated all of Mai's weapons when he brought her here. I don't know how much of her old self remains, but I doubt she'd forget her favorite pastime."

As Zuko shoved the package into the pack on his back, Azula turned and gently lifted a key into the dim light, sliding it into the lock and twisting it; the clang vibrated through the air.

"I'm letting you go in," she murmured, "so you can get her out of here. But let her come to you. Doing it any other way will end with your dead body on the floor… or at the very least, a few new scars."

Zuko swallowed and nodded.

The door swung open.

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The hinges screech as the door opens, and she looks up warily at the sound, scooting back into the corner, her back stiff and her muscles tense. The blood has only just dried beneath her nails, but she's willing to still fight regardless.

She heard the voices outside her cell, but they don't seem very threatening; just those two girls, and a male voice she doesn't recall hearing recently, and it isn't _his _voice. Warily she lets her fingers rest against the ground, but her eyes stay narrow and she doesn't give an inch.

Something about that voice tugs at her inwardly, stirs something as though calling to her, and she tilts her head quizzically, ignoring the dark strands of hair that fall into her eyes.

And then, he steps into her cell.

The light in the hallway is dim, but as she gazes at him from the shadows she can make out the burn scar over his eye; still wary, still uncertain, she creeps back quietly, huddling back into her corner. He takes a step towards her, as though to stop her, and stills at her low warning growl, almost like that of a cornered wolf.

"Mai?"

His voice is low, soft, as though he's speaking to a wounded, trapped animal—and maybe he is. She pushes her hair out of her eyes, so he can see them clearly. Slowly, cautiously, she begins to stand, judging her movements by his own reactions. When she is on her feet, weaving a little unsteadily but standing, he makes no move.

After a moment, she takes a tentative step towards him.

She isn't afraid of him, and she doesn't know why.

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When Zuko had been younger, a young deer had jumped the palace wall and gotten trapped in the garden. He had stumbled upon it by accident, and when it had realized he was there it had stared at him, its eyes a mixture of wariness and curiosity.

The look in Mai's eyes now was exactly like that of the deer he'd seen so many years ago—gazing at her, it was obvious she had no memory of him, and yet she still seemed drawn to him. If any part of her remained, deeply buried as it was, it recognized him clearly.

Her eyes flickering to his face, she took another step; then another, and yet another, slowly but surely coming to him.

Even though the lighting was dim, Zuko could tell Mai had lost some weight since he'd last saw her. Her skin was pale, and he could just make out faded bruises along her neck. Anger surged through him, but he beat it down.

"Mai." He said her name, softly so as not to startle her, and nothing else. "Mai."

She paused, studying him quizzically, and something gleamed in her eyes for a moment before fading. Moving slowly so as not to scare her, he held his hand out to her. She eyed it quietly with narrow eyes, rocking back on her heels as though to indicate that any small move would cause her to break and retreat, or worse yet attack him.

"Mai." A soft note of pleading had entered his voice.

Nothing this time, no flicker or step—she just stood there, studying his hand intently as though waiting to see if it would sprout fangs and snap at her. Zuko couldn't help but notice that she was weaving slightly on her feet, trembling just so, and felt a surge of worry. Had Azula been wrong? Was it possible that Mai was, in fact, falling ill from her time in the dungeon?

"Mai."

_Trust me. Just trust me, like you used to when we were kids and I taught you how to feed turtleducks. Trust me like you did that night, when you helped me free Uncle. Trust me like you did when I left, promising I'd come back for you._

"Mai," he pleaded, and his voice cracked slightly. "Trust me."

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"Mai."

Why does he keep saying that? Does he expect her to react to the name? It isn't her name, after all. From what she recalls, she has no name. So why does he keep saying it, like a prayer, like a plea?

Something inside her is stirring as he speaks, but its weak and flutters against her ribs briefly like broken wings before fading away. She studies his outstretched hand, trying her best to weigh the pros and cons of putting her faith in this boy, this boy who is still too young to be a man, and yet he draws her to him like a moth to the flame.

He seems familiar to her, and she doesn't know why.

"Mai. Trust me."

The two words make her look up at him, eyes wide.

Trust. She knows that word, dimly at least. Trust is something you have in a person who sleeps with you to keep you warm, who gives you food and takes care of you when you're sick. Trust is something she hasn't felt in a long, long time.

But something in his tone, in her eyes, makes her believe. Just a little.

Her vision is swirling and dim around the edges, and she wonders faintly if perhaps she is falling ill and that is what is affecting her judgment.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she holds her hand out to his, her fingers trembling slightly—from cold, from the headache that is pounding at her temples, from fear, from hope. She curls away from him for a brief second, hesitating, and almost hopes he'll grab her hand and force her to decide.

But he doesn't. He just waits.

Finally, she rests her hand in his, placing what little trust she has left in him.

She lets him lead her out of the cell, into the dim light of the hallway.

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You may have noticed by now that whenever I write from Mai's POV, she refers to things mainly in the present tense and doesn't call anyone, even herself, by name. This is done on purpose and there's a reason to it.

This chapter was difficult mainly because I needed to highlight just how messed up Mai is- not phyiscally or even with her sanity, but mentally. Right now, she's reverted back to an almost animal-like existence, and I tried my best to convey that, but I don't know how well it got across...

Read and review, please!


	3. The First Day

_Disclaimer: _I don't own Avatar. Not that I haven't tried to get it.

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_Chapter 2: The First Day_

In the doorway, Mai balked when she caught sight of Ty Lee and Azula, her eyes widening and narrowing in a heartbeat. Ty Lee stepped to her, almost instinctively after knowing the girl for so long, but Azula saw the faint ripple of muscle beneath Mai's clothing and placed a hand on the acrobat's shoulder, quietly attempting to soothe her; the last thing the Fire Nation Princess wanted was Ty Lee lying in a pool of blood, cut down by her own friend.

No. This was yet another thing Mai had to decide on her own.

The one thing that Azula took reassurance in was that the dark-haired girl still kept her hand in Zuko's. If she hadn't, it would have been an immediate sign of trouble, whether Mai chose to attack or retreat.

While she didn't want either to happen, Azula discovered she very much preferred Mai retreating to Mai attacking. Because despite how she acted, she didn't want to cut down her own friend, even if it _was _in self defense.

Azula was a lot of things. One thing she was _not_, however, was a traitor.

And if she was forced to attack Mai, even if it was in self defense, she would still be betraying her.

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She's heard the voices of the pink-clad girl and the girl with golden eyes for awhile now, and even glimpsed their faces in the dim light. But she's never actually gotten a good look at them, has never been able to evaluate and judge how strong they are.

Some part of her knows—believes, really—that they would never hurt her, and she's not sure why. But where she used to feel trust and affection she now only feels wariness and fear, and the animal instinct overrides any past memories she shares with them.

All she knows is that they could kill her if they wanted, and it's enough to have her pausing in the doorway. If it comes to blows her odds are two-to-one (she's still not sure whose side the boy is on, hers or theirs or possibly both), and those are not particularly good odds, no matter how fiercely she fights.

Instead, she judges her own actions by the movements of the two girls. Neither move as though their lives depend on it (and maybe they do), and she can see the anguish in the pink-clad girl's eyes but she doesn't move.

Teeth and nails won't do much good here—she can't see well and wouldn't know what to aim for, and besides neither girl looks like they want to fight, and damn it all she hasn't spiraled past the point where she'd attack innocent bystanders.

Besides, she really, _really_ wants to get out of here. Like, _now_.

And it's enough.

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After a long, painful moment Mai quietly stepped to Zuko's side, her body slowly relaxing—but her eyes were still wary, sharp for that one mistake. It was better than an attack or a retreat, though, and both Fire Nation siblings would take what the dark-haired girl was willing to give.

Zuko turned golden eyes on his sister, satisfied that they'd reached safe ground for the time being. "Are you coming?"

Azula was already shaking her head. "I can't. If I disappear alongside Mai, Father will know for sure that something is wrong. At the most I can give you both a head start if he decides to pursue you. Ty Lee—"

"—is staying right here." The acrobat gave her old friend a look that was positively frosty. "It's better if two people stay behind and stall instead of one. Besides, you'll need me if things go wrong."

Sensing the tension between the two that was absolutely none of his business whatsoever, Zuko cleared his throat and nodded. "Okay," he said. "I can work with that." He turned away, intent on putting as much space between him and the prison as possible. Mai let go of his hand, but instead of bolting or attacking she simply loped ahead of him as though instinctively knowing the way out.

"Zuko."

Azula's soft voice made him look back.

"Something you should know." She nodded briefly in Mai's direction, as the other girl had paused by the corner and was waiting quietly for Zuko like an obedient dog. "About Mai. Ty Lee told me that you believed she was still with her family."

"Yes. I did."

A moment of silence as Azula contemplated this. Then, "I don't know how long it will take for Mai to become herself again, but don't tell her this. Her parents know she's imprisoned. I don't know if they knew what Father was doing to her… but they know she's trapped."

Anger rolled in Zuko's belly, hot and scaly like a large beast; but Azula just looked at him, and for once she truly looked her age.

"Don't tell her any of this, Zuko. If you do, it might just break her all over again."

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The wind is cool and carries a gentle nip, and any other person would flinch and pull tighter into the warmth of their clothes; she revels in it, pausing for a moment among the trees and tilting her head up, letting her face drink in the moonlight as the cool breeze plays with her hair. After so long she is finally free, a hope she'd given up on long ago.

"Mai."

She meets his gaze, but his eyes are not disapproving or judging. It almost seems as though he understands her quiet elation, her personal victory. Something inside her stirs once again—

_(small hands reaching out to hers and gentle golden eyes)_

--but the memory flickers and fades like a ripple after a stone has been tossed into calm, clear water. She only looks at him not because he is familiar, not because of the name he says, but because she hears his voice and it's only natural to look in the direction of a noise.

Because noise means a possible attack, and she isn't one to let her guard down.

As though sensing this (and, in his own way, understanding it) he turns away again and begins walking, leading her away from the prison and into the woods.

She waits, letting a small gap fill between them, and when she feels the distance is safe enough she follows.

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They traveled all night, and it hadn't surprised Zuko at all. He wanted to put as much distance between him and the palace as possible; while Azula could certainly stall and slow Ozai, there was no doubt that sooner or later he'd find out about Mai's disappearance and come to the conclusion that his son had something to do with it.

_("She's his new toy…")_

He shuddered.

Mai kept pace with him surprisingly well, considering her condition—the only thing that threw Zuko for a loop was that she trailed behind him, keeping a constant, wary distance between them. Only once had he tried to breach this distance, and she'd stumbled back so quickly that she would have fallen if she hadn't bumped against a tree, her eyes wide and slightly panicked.

He hadn't tried again.

By the time the sun began to rise, though, he could tell Mai was having trouble. She'd fallen behind from the original distance she'd established between them, and her breathing was labored and ragged. Risking a glance back at her, he'd seen her hair was sweaty and tangled, completely soaked. That was when he began to wonder if she possibly had a fever rising.

She collapsed by midday. Zuko heard the soft thud and knew she couldn't go any further.

He also knew she wouldn't be rising for some time.

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The world spins again as her vision dims and her stomach lurches, though she's eaten nothing; she can no longer fight it and crumbles to the ground.

For a brief moment the animal panic of being left behind flashes through her, but she hears his footsteps cease before he comes back to her, this boy who isn't yet a man in her eyes. She whimpers softly and shifts, trying to rise, but her body is weak and doesn't comply with her commands.

He kneels next to her, obviously torn; tilting her head just so she can see his eyes, and she knows he wants to help her. His hand twitches and he draws it to his chest for a moment, before slowly reaching to her, obviously unsure—

_(strong hands, hot angry hands are on her shoulders, her neck, and she gasps and struggles but the lack of air is weakening her and she feels his lips curve as he kisses his way from her jaw down to her chest, taking his sweet time because he knows she can't fight back, and he drags his tongue along her skin and it makes her want to scream)_

--and her hand flies out in a blur, knocking his away before his fingertips even graze her shoulder. She's beginning to tremble, and she doesn't want him to see her weakness. Though her vision is blurry she can just make out a cave a short distance away.

Narrowing her eyes she slowly pushes herself up onto her hands and knees, and for a moment she wonders if the boy will try and help her again, but he got her message and stays by her side, not doing anything. With aching slowness she lurches to her feet; for a moment she weaves dangerously and almost falls again, but her stubborn will beats down the affects of the fever that races through her system, heating her to the core. She takes slow, shaking steps to the cave, and the boy trails her much the way she trailed him before.

The cave is cooler than outside, and it's a merciful feeling in contrast to her overheated body, and with a soft murmur of appreciation she collapses, not caring about the hard cold ground, and passes out.

The darkness is a welcome relief, and she sleeps a free woman.

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For a moment Zuko stared wordlessly at Mai's sleeping form, not exactly sure what to do with himself; after a moment he walked over to the opposite wall, setting down his pack and flipping it open. Thankfully he'd prepared for this trip, and pulled out the extra blanket he'd tucked in.

It was wrong to just leave Mai exposed the way she was, and she needed to stay warm as her body waged a war against itself. Kneeling next to her, he gently slid one arm under her sleeping form and cautiously slid the blanket under her, judging his actions by her own reactions—she stirred briefly and curled into a tighter ball, but the fever now had her in its grasp and wouldn't let her go.

He finished wrapping the blanket around her, slid a ragged pillow under her head and rocked back on his heels, content he'd made her as comfortable as he possibly could considering the circumstances.

After a moment he retreated back to the wall and sat against it, leaning back and closing his eyes.

He deserved some sleep himself. It was obvious Mai wouldn't be rising again for quite some time.

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Mai's still keeping some distance between her and Zuko... she still doesn't quite trust him at this point, and I just wanted that to come across. Plus the little mini flashbacks in _italics._

Read and review, please!


	4. The Second Day

_Disclaimer: _Nope, still don't own Avatar. Heck, all inspiration belongs to Day of Black Sun.

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_Chapter 3: The Second Day_

The gentle sting of dim sunlight against his eyelids stirred Zuko; he groaned softly and straightened slightly against the cave wall, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and glancing out of the mouth of the cave. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon beyond, spilling its golden rays along the forest. He smiled briefly before slowly crawling on his hands and knees to where Mai slept, her back to him; at some point during the night, she had shifted and curled into a ball, away from him.

Even in sleep, she instinctively seemed to fear exposing herself. Zuko didn't remember her ever being like that before.

The night had, thankfully, passed uneventfully for Mai; other than a few whimpers here and there and tossing and turning a bit, she had slept through the night and hadn't suffered any other symptoms of serious illness. She still had a fever—Zuko knew by holding his hand just a few inches from her forehead and feeling the heat, because she started shivering in her sleep every time he touched her and he didn't want to scare her when her bond with him was still so fragile—and while it hadn't really gotten any better, it hadn't gotten any worse either.

He knew that assuming the worst was over was foolish; it was a new day, with new rules, and Mai was still sick. Until her body reached some kind of conclusion and her fever broke, she was still at the mercy of her own mind.

Zuko sighed, ran a hand through his hair, then slowly stood up. If his hearing was correct, there was a stream not to far away from the cave. At least he could get a drink—his throat felt dry—and see if there were any fish worth catching.

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It's dark. So dark. She fears the dark, wants nothing more than to escape it, but she isn't aware of her body, can't feel the blood flowing through her veins or the heat of her muscles.

She doesn't think she's dead. When you die, you lose all senses; and though she can't feel her body, can't feel the movement of her muscles or the heat of her blood, she can still smell the air and hear the faint trickling of a stream somewhere. So she knows she isn't dead.

But if she isn't dead, what _is _she?

There is warmth in the darkness, kind of like a weak fire that's just starting to die; just warm enough for her to be aware of its presence, but not particularly annoying. She can ignore it if she puts her mind to it.

It's actually kind of nice.

There's a strange kind of creaking noise, like a gate blowing haphazardly in the wind; it's an unusual sound, one she's never heard in the confines of her own mind, and wariness creeps through her system.

_(the force of his backhanded blow throws her into the wall, and she dimly hears something crack; as she sags to the ground he's there, lifting her up and pushing her back against the wall, holding her shoulders, so she can't twist free, can't squirm. Blood trickles between his eyes from where she managed to scratch him earlier, and his eyes gleam with fury, forcing her legs apart despite her fierce struggles. She can't lift her hands, she can't break free, and all she can do is squeeze her eyes shut and gasp in pain as he pierces her in one fluid movement, all fire and heat and darkness and it feels so wrong)_

It's not dark anymore, it's not just black—colors explode and race across the endless plains of her mind, oranges and reds and yellows, all sharp explosive colors like the sun, like fire, like the land she was born and raised in.

But the bright colors startle her, make her want to shrink away; they burn her eyes and make her whimper, and with a jolt she is suddenly aware of her body, of her blood, of _everything…_

_(she sinks slowly to the ground, completely covered in blood; hers and his. Tonight was a rough night, because she still has some fight in her, but it never stops the inevitable; between her legs she aches, she hurts everywhere, and she closes her eyes. All she wants is to forget, to forget the hard, painful length of him, but tomorrow is another night and she wonders how much more she can take)_

She whimpers, and she can hear it resound in her ears; but she keeps her eyes closed as the colors flash along her closed lids, as they burn through her memory, all the bright, burning reds and oranges and yellows, like stinging sunlight, like fire, burning, always burning.

She's scared; she's burning and the colors are too bright and she doesn't know how to make them stop, and she's _scared._ This isn't the fear of when night falls, this isn't the instinctive fear of an animal—it's sheer terror, plain and simple, the kind of terror one feels when they are going through an ordeal and all they want is for someone to be there for them.

But she's alone.

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Zuko had only been away from the cave for a few minutes, his throat cooled by the water—but when he returned, he knew something was wrong.

Mai had rolled over onto her back at some point, and she was shivering; small tremors, barely noticeable unless one looked, rippling through her body like waves. Soft, choked whimpers escaped her every now and then, high pitched and almost similar to a keening wail of fear.

Uncertainly he walked to her, moving slowly in case she woke; but as he sat next to her and held his hand out over her forehead, still wet with sweat, he knew she wouldn't wake. Her fever had barely dropped a few degrees; she was still caught in the tempest of the sickness, her own mental war.

And she sounded very, very scared.

Some part of Zuko knew that what he did now wouldn't count for much later; Mai was still under the influence of the fever, and anything that happened could easily be forgotten. But now she looked fragile, more fragile than she ever had before, and she sounded absolutely terrified, and…

_And he couldn't just leave her alone._

Slowly, hesitantly, he brushed the tips of his fingers with hers; when she continued to shiver but didn't pull away, he cautiously wound his fingers with hers and set them down, not even bothering to lift it, not sure of how she'd react. His eyes focused on her face.

"It's all right, Mai," he whispered as she whimpered again. "I'm here."

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She feels the warmth of another hand, soft and gentle against her own, and she pauses for a moment, trying to gauge what's going on, what's happening…

"I'm here."

It's him again. That boy, that man-boy, the one who rescued her, one of the few people she still trusts though she doesn't even remember why.

_(he takes her hand and gently pulls her up, brushing the grass and dirt off her shoulders; they always get a little dirty after playing tag, and her face turns bright red and he's blushing too, but his touch is warm and soft and it makes her feel happy)_

The colors shift, they change, they soften; now they're no longer red and orange and yellow but blue, gentle shades of blue and purple and maybe even a little green, and these colors are nice and cool, they soothe her, they aren't fire but water, and she knows that water means life, water can't hurt her.

Water keeps her alive.

She relaxes, not even minding that he's touching her, something that will probably be taboo again once she awakens from her trance; but for now she doesn't mind, because this boy's touch soothes her memories, he chases away the angry colors, the harsh burn of red and yellow and orange, the fatal heat of fire.

No, this boy's touch cools her body though she still feels the heat of fever, his touch arouses the gentle colors, the light caress of blue and green and purple, like water, giving her life, giving her strength.

And for a brief moment, she understands.

This boy is her water.

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Zuko stayed that way for the rest of the day, not daring to move. He sat there even as the sun sank below the horizon again, as night fell. His body ached a bit and his stomach growled, but he didn't mind.

Because as long as he stayed there, Mai slept peacefully despite her fever, her breathing slightly ragged and thin but still even, her fingers limp against his and feeling warmer than usual.

And as long as she was soothed, at least until the next day, Zuko had no intention of moving. He smiled tiredly and closed his eyes, bowing his head so his chin touched his chest and his hair fell into his eyes.

"It's all right, Mai," he repeated softly as sleep crept into his mind. Briefly, he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

"I'm still here."

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Well, that was fun.

Still testing my limits a bit with the flashbacks... trying to see just how descriptive I'm willing to make them at this point.

Read and review, please!


	5. The Third Day

_Disclaimer: _Don't own, don't sue.

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_Chapter 4: The Third Day_

"_I'm still here."_

She hears the words dimly as she sleeps, because her time in the cell has made her a light sleeper and truth be told she doesn't need much sleep anymore; her body has adapted to the late, dark hours of night, to falling asleep in the early hours of morning and lightly dozing. Her mind has adapted to a cycle of physical abuse that knows no end, to a cycle of fear and pain and hunger, and even in sleep she cannot escape the discomfort so she usually doesn't bother with it.

It's been a long, long time since her mind has rested easily and she's actually slept deeply. But she doesn't mind, because she doesn't remember ever sleeping well. She doesn't dream much anymore, either.

But even though she sleeps lightly and in the past any other sound would have been enough to jolt her awake, her eyes wide and her heart pounding and her muscles tense, the boy's words do not bother her.

Over time she has learned to judge a person's intentions just by listening to their voice, judging their tone, how quickly they say some words and how they drag out others, how they pause and plow right through. The words the boy had spoken had been soft, almost as though she had imagined them, soft and gentle and warm like the fire in her head, but more like embers than an actual blazing fire.

It soothes her; his tone, his voice, the pacing of his words. _He _soothes her, and she wonders if perhaps she knew him in a past life. It's a nice thought.

_(He's not the boy she used to know but a man, at least in his own special way that's always been his. It's something she can't quite put her finger on, some kind of trait of his that has no name, something that hangs in the air around him that wasn't there when she knew him, when she loved him._

_She knows he's changed, and she's kind of expected that. She still loves him anyway._

"_Mai?"_

_He is the first to speak as they gaze across the distance of the room at each other, and suddenly that feeling—that trait, that trait of his that makes him a man in his own way—is gone, and he's the boy again, the boy she knew so well, the boy she loved and lost in a life neither of them want to remember. His voice is awkward and timid and deathly scared because he's lost so much, and all along he's prayed he hasn't lost her, too, because if he has…_

_His name rises from her throat, leaves her mouth without a thought, and she smiles._

"_Zuko." She steps closer, closing the distance. "It's been a long time.")_

Zuko.

The name (is that what it is, his name? What's a name, anyway?) sparks something deep within her subconscious, gentle yellows and oranges drifting along her mind's eye at the mere thought of his name. It sounds of fire and rage, of blood and red, and she knows it should scare her—but the memory, something in his name, also sounds gentle, kind, almost torn in two directions.

She feels as though she's heard his name numerous times, and has said it. Briefly, she wonders what her voice sounds like.

_Zuko._

Huh. Somehow, it fits him.

Maybe she'll call him that from now on.

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A night of sitting vigil over Mai's sleeping form (How much sleep had she gotten in the prison? Surely not this much) left Zuko achy and a little slow to move around, but the result was worth it. Once again Mai had slept through the night, this time without her usual whimpers and tossing and turning. Slowly he lifted his hand away from hers, quickly running it through the messy mop of dark hair on his head. After a moment, he lowered his hand again and, in a leap of faith, gently rested the palm of his hand against her forehead.

The strands of dark hair beneath his skin still felt wet and kind of sticky, but Zuko figured that was more from the fever than anything else; he stayed that way for a few seconds before quietly breathing out in relief, lifting his hand away. "Looks like it's finally starting to go down," he murmured to no on in particular, surprised and pleased that Mai hadn't shivered or jerked away when he touched her.

Maybe she was finally getting used to him, in her own way.

If Mai's fever was starting to break, Zuko knew it wouldn't be long before they'd have to start traveling again. As much as he hated the thought of forcing her to keep moving before her strength had fully returned, he knew they couldn't afford to stay in one place for long, at least not until he was absolutely certain that Ozai had lost any and all interest in pursuing Mai.

Zuko couldn't help but wonder what had made Mai so sick to begin with. From what Azula had said Ozai had been treating her well, or at least well enough to keep her in a state of health that he found desirable. And from what Azula had also told him, Ozai had been visiting Mai every night; surely he would have noticed her health beginning to fail.

Unless… he'd just come to have his way with her…

_Kill this thought dead._

No, but really, it made sense even as Zuko's stomach rolled…

_With your shoe._

It was a logical thought! Why was his mind reacting so badly to it?

_Thwack._

Well, that was the end of that, then.

Scowling a little, Zuko shook his head and huffed in frustration. As much as he hated it, he had to come to terms with what Ozai had done to Mai and accept that it had happened. Mai _needed _him to do at least that much. When she snapped out of her trance and became herself again (he had to believe she would, Agni, he _had _to), she'd need him.

Now that he thought about it, he had no clue how long it would take Mai to snap out of her trance and slowly become the girl he'd known. Even when she recovered from her fever and regained her strength, there was no guarantee she'd start talking again or go back to her old habits. She seemed to be accepting his timid advances at the moment, but he could barely judge _that _because she was still sick and unaware of herself.

Heck, assuming Mai would even go back to her old self was stupid on his part. Even if she regained her memories and her voice and her confidence, she would never be the same ever again. Assuming otherwise would be stupidity on his part.

And Zuko discovered that he didn't care how much this changed Mai.

He would still love her, whether she changed or stayed the same. When he got back to the safety of the village, he would ask Iroh to make her some tea. She'd always liked that. Maybe he'd even try and make it himself, though Iroh would probably mutter something about it being nasty-tasting and possibly poisonous in Mai's ear.

The image made Zuko smile tiredly, and it gave him something to believe in. He dozed off again with the image still fully formed in his brain.

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_Zuko._

The name drifts in and out of her mind like a winged bird, always flitting out of her grasp as she tries to reach for it. It's annoying, but she doesn't give up. The boy's name is the first real, solid, _human _thought she's had in a long, long time, and she's not about to lose it now.

_Zuko._

She repeats it silently in her head the way one would a treasured mantra, trying to ingrain it into her mind so she never loses it, so it never fades away from her the way her memories have. This name, for some reason, is just as important to her as her memories, possibly even more so.

_Zuko._

Her mind scrambles, torn between this new concept of a name and the old habit of judging people by their faces and nothing more; one moment he is just a boy, a boy with golden eyes and wild hair and a scar, and the next he is Zuko (though she still doesn't know _what _Zuko is or _why _it's so important to her, why she feels the urge to fight for it). It's a relapse in some way, and she fights it desperately.

If she relapses, if she goes back to judging faces and nothing more, she knows she will never break out of this trance, this dreamlike state where she is only half aware of everything.

_Zuko._

She wants, desperately, to be aware of everything again.

She wants to remember.

Because she knows, at least, that before this all started, before she was thrown into her own personal hell, she was somebody. Somebody with a name and a face and a family, somebody who smiled and laughed, somebody who loved and was loved in return.

_Zuko._

This name—this boy, Zuko—is the link. Of that much she is certain.

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Zuko drifted in and out of consciousness most of the day, not even bothered by the faint rumblings of his belly. His body had long ago adapted to surviving off scant supplies of food, and now was no different. In a way, he was actually grateful for it; it gave him the time to doze, resting his weary body after such a long journey and a hasty escape.

He was barely awake, so when Mai first stirred he didn't really notice it, still half asleep himself and only partially aware of the world around him. It was only when she stirred the second time, her fingers lazily brushing her wrist, that he blinked groggily and opened his eyes, rubbing at them with the back of his hand. "Mai?" he asked. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Some part of him knew it was foolish to speak to her as though she could answer, but he had no way of knowing her condition; perhaps she could hear him. Maybe she could, because as soon as she heard his voice her fingers stilled. He frowned a little, studying her face, and gently brushed her hair back with his hand. Was her fever coming back? That could be it. Agni, how he wished he was a Waterbender with healing abilities right now…

Her lips moved.

For a second Zuko froze, his eyes wide as he stared, not quite believing what he was seeing; but no, her lips had in fact moved, barely so and without making a single sound. His heart stumbled, missed a beat, pounded faster than it had before.

_Is she trying to speak?_

Some part of Zuko knew it would be a long, long time before Mai could actually _speak_, assuming she hadn't said a word since her imprisonment and had most likely forgotten what her own voice sounded like, but at the moment he didn't care. All he could focus on was Mai, and the internal battle she seemed to be waging just to move her mouth of her own free will.

She stilled for a moment, her lips curving down in a frown even as she slept, still drifting in a world Zuko couldn't pull her out of. Zuko felt his heart sink and he wondered if perhaps she had given up, if perhaps she had surrendered to whatever war was going on within her body.

And then, her lips moved again. _One last time, _she seemed to be thinking. _Let me try this one last time._

Once again, her lips moved; slowly, haltingly, as though she had forgotten how to do so. But she didn't stop. And this time, her lips made a word, a name he could recognize though she still made no sound.

_Zuko._

She said his name, silently, wordlessly. But it was his name.

A part of her remembered him.

And for the first time since beginning his journey to bring her back, Zuko smiled.

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I honestly have no comment on this chapter.

Read and review, please!


	6. The Release

_Disclaimer: _I don't own Avatar, don't sue me, yadda yadda yadda...

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_Chapter 5: The Release_

On the morning of the fourth day, Mai's fever finally broke.

And despite everything, Zuko couldn't help but wonder if this meant she'd finally return to the way she used to be. Hesitantly, gently, he touched his hand to her forehead once again, his eyes never leaving her face.

She stirred beneath his touch, whimpered and moaned softly; then, slowly, her eyes opened. The silver orbs were cloudy and dazed, appearing more dark gray than silver. She blinked a few times groggily, wincing, and as Zuko watched the cloudiness faded and awareness sharpened her gaze, and her eyes flickered up to his hand.

As he watched, barely even breathing, her eyes widened, then narrowed. Her hand shot out, her fingers closing on his wrist. Zuko winced and hissed softly in protest as her nails dug into his skin, but he didn't pull away.

Instead, he waited. Whatever happened next, it was Mai's call.

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She feels his body wince beneath her fingers, that tensing of muscle and bone and that jolt of the blood through one's veins, and an animal pleasure rises in her chest. It is a predator's pleasure, a predator born and bred of her caged existence, and it claws now for a release, for blood to be spilled, for her to make someone suffer the way she has suffered.

_But…_

No. Not him. Not Zuko, this man, this boy. He's been kind to her, gentle, he's stayed with her when any other sane person would abandon her to fend for herself. He's the link to her past, to the person she was, to _her reason for existing_, and if she will spill anyone's blood, it won't be his.

He's too important to her… too precious.

…

Precious. Huh.

It's been a long, long time since she's thought of anyone as precious.

Darkly amused by this realization for some strange, twisted reason that she doesn't yet want to comprehend, she lets her fingers relax and releases his wrist, letting her hand fall back and curl against her chest, so she can feel her heartbeat. He breathes out softly, a sigh, and her eyes meet his.

"Well." He laughs weakly, running a hand through his hair. "I guess you're feeling better now, huh? Your immune system must be incredible if you act like this so soon after waking."

Honestly… he thought this fever would do her in? She scowls at him a little, insulted. Her immune system has been battered and bruised by everything that thrives in the darkness and the wet, and he thinks a fever will kill her. Despite her annoyance, she also feels amused and… touched? Maybe because he was worried about her, yes, that must be it…

His eyes are really a very interesting shade of gold, she muses as she slowly sits up, shivering a bit. They follow her every move, but she doesn't feel like prey. It's kind of nice. She could get used to it.

Deep inside her, the predator grumbles but quietly bows down as the more human side of her establishes dominance, burying it once again; but it is only a matter of time, the predator knows this, sooner or later she'll snap, sooner or later the grief and the rage that she's kept inside for so long will break free, and then blood will spill.

And once blood is spilled, the predator in her will be satisfied.

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Zuko wasn't sure about traveling so soon after Mai woke—she was still pale and a little warm and shaky on her feet—but her eyes were determined and she followed him without complaint when he started walking. She kept a decent pace, still following him at a distance, but it wasn't as great as it had been previously, and a few times out of the corner of his eye he saw her occasionally creep closer before backing away again, obviously unsure of herself.

He saw, and it made his lips twitch in something of a smile, but he didn't do anything. Mai had established the boundary lines, and he would let her be the one to push them. Despite it, though, he was relieved that her slow gravitation to him during her fever hadn't halted.

As they walked through the trees, he remembered, with a jolt, the package Azula had given to him containing Mai's weapons when they had first escaped from the prison. After a moment's hesitation and a bit of fumbling, he got the package free and tossed it to Mai.

The dark-haired girl's eyes widened in surprise and she started to flinch away, but the package managed to land in her hands despite it. She fumbled and nearly dropped it, but kept her grip and looked at Zuko, confusion clearly written on her face.

"You used to like playing with knives," was all he said before he turned away and started walking again.

He'd let Mai figure it out.

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"_You used to like playing with knives."_

Now what the bloody heck is _that _supposed to mean?

She watches him walk on before lowering her eyes, gazing at the package in her hands (for a moment there, she thought he was hitting her or something); after a moment's hesitation, she quickly brushes the brown paper away and studies what she's been given.

Blades. Small, sharp little knives. They have another name, she's sure of that, but she can't quite recall it at the moment. But all she really needs to know is they're small, they're sharp, and they can cut people, make them bleed.

Using these knives, these tiny blades, she can defend herself. She hesitates, then slides the blades into her sleeves, feeling as though she's done this before.

Within her chest, the predator purrs.

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Darkness fell faster than Zuko could remember, and he felt a tingle run down his spine. He'd honestly hoped to make it to town before nightfall; he had mapped out what towns he'd passed through on his way back to retrieve Mai, and he was more than a little nervous about traveling in the night shadows. He paused for a moment, torn.

What would be best… to continue on until they reached town, or to stop once more and take shelter in a cave or something for the night? He wasn't sure.

Another tingle shot through his body, but for an entirely different reason; as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw Mai quietly wander to his side, seeming almost as though she was floating really, still keeping a distance from him but looking at him with calm, cool silver eyes.

She hadn't spoken a single word since escaping the prison, but in that moment, bathed in the shadows and the broken silver beams of the moonlight, she almost seemed like her old self as she looked at him. He studied her posture for a moment, trying to gauge how she was handling traveling in the dark. She was not apparently bothered by the shadows the way he was, but there was an unmistakable tension in the way she held herself; not from the darkness and the night itself, but from something that lurked there.

Another chill raced down his spine. If Mai was still capable of picking up the movements of another person (it had been a skill she'd been good at, back before Zuko had left), then her current behavior all but screamed that they were being followed.

He glanced at her again briefly, his eyes flickering over her form; her shoulders were stiff and she held her head a little higher than was probably necessary, her whole body poised as though she meant to either run and never look back or turn around and fight. Her eyes, though, were deceptively calm, seeming as though she was almost bored with the knowledge that they were being tailed.

_That's the Mai I know, _Zuko thought with a weak, forced chuckle. _Always claimed to be bored, even when fighting for her life._

As though sensing his gaze, she looked at him.

In that moment, the pretenses dropped. The boredom and calm that floated within the silver depths of her gaze faded away as she looked at him, and a new tension seemed to enter her body. It was not the tension of a prey animal being followed but the tension of a predator setting itself up to attack.

Still, though, she looked at him. As though waiting for his approval. Zuko closed his eyes for a moment. After about five heartbeats or so of silence, he opened them again.

"Go."

Soundlessly, Mai streaked into the trees to begin her hunt.

As she disappeared from Zuko's sight, dark clouds drifted overhead, blocking out the silver light of the moon above.

With a single rumble of thunder, it began to rain.

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She feels the rain falling but pays it no mind; perhaps, if the rain had come at another time, she would have stopped to enjoy the feel of it against her body. She hasn't felt rain in so long, and was beginning to believe she'd never feel it again.

Right now, though, isn't the time. Right now she is hunting, racing through the rain with the wind at her feet as the predator within her claws at her chest, snarling, _begging _for some form of release.

It isn't that she's lost her sanity, but she's suffered for so long. Somehow, someway, she needs to let it all out. Once that is done, she can resume her quest to become the person she used to be.

But she knows she can never be the person she used to be if she doesn't appease the predator within her now, at this very moment, in the darkness and the rain. She slides one of the blades down to rest between her fingers, feeling a primal surge in her blood when her skin feels the sharp smoothness of the weapon.

Her eyes adjust quickly to the darkness and she blinks the water away mindlessly, pausing to get her bearings. The hunt itself, the prey she stalks, is almost laughably easy, if she was in a laughing mood. Over the patter of rain she can easily hear the uneasy breathing of her prey, the heartbeats that jump at the thought of attacking Zuko and dragging him down.

There are two of them; by the sound of them she would guess they're young men, maybe scruffy in appearance, desperate for money or probably just hunting for the thrill of killing. She creeps quietly behind a tree and peers around it with narrow eyes, easily spotting her first target crouched among the low branches of another tree.

The easy route, the route that would keep her from sustaining any injury, would be to just hurl a blade at the man; she can do it, even in the rain, and it would be quick and painless.

It's not what she wants, though. The predator in her demands blood, the thrill of the hunt. Even if she sustains her own wounds, it will be worth it in the end.

Because once she has hunted, once blood has stained her hands, the predator in her will be satisfied. The guilt, the realization of what she's done…that will come later. Right now, it doesn't matter.

The rain is a blessing now.

Her clothes are plastered to her skin, but she pays no mind to the slight discomfort; besides, it keeps her clothing from being too loose and making noise. The man is already dead in her mind, and as she begins to surge forward she already plots the death of his companion.

The pounding of the rain drowns out all sound but the sound it makes on its own, and it washes away the scent or sound that another person could detect. The whole thing on its own is so easy she might laugh about it, but it's an opportunity she can't ignore. If she doesn't do this now, she'll never recover.

The struggle is over before it can even begin; the man isn't aware of her presence in the first place, and she still possesses speed and strength beyond that of most girls her age thanks to some kind of training she took earlier in her life (though she can't exactly remember _what _the training was, just that it had something to do with her knives, Zuko, and the two girls… the girl wearing pink and the girl with golden eyes). The man only has time to let out a muffled cry of shock and protest as she slams against him, one arm jammed against his throat to keep him from crying out completely, lest doing so attracts his companion's attention; she doubts she can take on two men on her own, and isn't willing to test the theory.

In a flash, the blade is between her fingers and thrust forward with deadly accuracy, to the vulnerable curve of the man's throat that contains his life blood. He makes only a weak gurgling sound, and jerks against her arm, but surprise is her advantage. Blood streams from the wound, gushing over the blade and spilling onto her arms, dripping down the tree to the grass below, only to be washed away by the rain that is still steadily falling.

The blood is red, but in the darkness of the rain it looks almost black, and it feels tauntingly warm as it slips between her fingers and burns into her skin like fire. The predator within her howls with delight, clamoring for another release, for her to hunt down the second man, but for a moment she just steps back, jerking her arm away, and watches blankly as the man's lifeless body tumbles noiselessly from the tree, landing with only a dull thud in the grass below.

Blood is still dripping from her hands, but she doesn't move to flick it away. A shout from the distance makes her look away from the dead body below as the man's companion streaks across the branches, leaping toward her; obviously, he doesn't yet know that his friend is dead. He is up in the branches still, like her, and cannot see clearly because of the rain, cannot glimpse the body on the ground.

She almost laughs.

She leaps from the branch, blood still fresh on her hands and gripping the stained, dark blade between her fingers, and collides with the other man halfway in midair. The element of surprise is brief, flitting as he stiffens in shock, but he reacts quickly, grabbing her wrist and twisting it back, away from his throat so he won't die the same death his companion did.

They crash into the grass but don't break apart, because even though he is fighting back, struggling, she still has a pretty good grip on him; not that it does much, since she's lighter and far more slimmer than he is, and hand-to-hand combat could be the death of her if she stays this close to him. He has a good grip on her clothing, but she manages to slash his hand; as he howls in pain and blood spurts into the air she hurtles away, back to the trees, and hides in the shadows, prowling along the edges of the clearing like some wild, bloodthirsty beast.

He's still off-balanced by the attack, though, and not thinking clearly, and the rain is her advantage this time around; it's still falling, hard and dark and gray, cold and drowning out everything but the small world of death and blood, a world where she is completely at home, where the predator in her can finally be satisfied.

She doesn't give him time to gather his thoughts; the longer she waits, the more likely she will be killed. And she likes being alive.

She streaks back out again, her blood practically singing through her veins as the rain pounds down on her, and though she's wet and cold and completely soaked to the bone she's never felt more _alive_. She twirls her blade between her fingers, seeing the drops of blood that fly through the air out of the corner of her eye.

Her blade is sharp and her aim is true; she ducks to avoid his fisted hand, taking the blow across her side, and her ribs shriek in agony, but she ignores it and jabs forward with all the strength she possesses. The momentum of her attack sends him stumbling back a few steps and he weaves; his eyes widen and blood drips from the corner of his mouth as he chokes and gasps, his eyes glazing over. Once more blood is flowing, warm and red and thick along her hands, between her fingers, beneath her fingernails. She can smell it, she can feel it, she can practically _taste _it, and as the predator within her finally begins to quiet she feels her legs begin to tremble.

She jerks the blade from his chest and steps back as he falls into the grass face first; her trembles spread until she's shaking all over, and the weight of what she's done hits her full force without the presence of the predator.

For the first time, she is fully aware of the rain.

Numbly she turns away and stumbles back to the trees as the cold and the wet finally begins to seep through her clothes, through her skin into her bones, into her blood. She is shaking all over, shaking and she can't stop, what has she done, what has she done…

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Zuko found her without even meaning to; the rain was still falling though the clouds were beginning to disperse and the moon was beginning to shine through, a weak silver light among the shadows.

He'd stood where Mai had left him for a long, long time, completely ignoring the rain as it pounded mercilessly down on him and chilled him to the core; only when he had felt a subtle shifting in him, something quietly tugging at him, did he begin to walk.

And that was how he found her.

Mai was huddled at the base of a tree, perhaps seeking shelter from the rain, though it was a lost cause at this point; her hair and clothes were completely soaked at this point, and it would be a miracle if she didn't end up sick again. She was crunched into a tiny ball, her whole body shaking like a loose leaf in the wind, soft whimpering noises occasionally escaping her clenching teeth.

Slowly, Zuko knelt before her; only then did he see the stilettos beside her, stained red with blood, and his stomach tightened. "Mai?"

She stiffened at the sound of his voice, shuddered, but her tremors never ceased; slowly, oh so slowly, she lifted her head and looked at him. Though much of it had been washed away by the rain, Zuko could still see the traces of blood on her hands, stained on her clothing. But her eyes…

Her eyes were blank; completely, utterly empty of any emotion as she stared at him, as though she wasn't even seeing him really. Zuko swallowed. "Mai?" he repeated weakly, lifting a hand, only to drop it a moment later; in her state, he didn't know what she'd do if he touched her. "Mai?" he tried again.

She blinked several times at the sound of his voice before shaking her head and looking at him again, and slowly her eyes cleared. She stared at him for a moment as though seeing him for the first time, and a sort of wonder filled her eyes; she lifted a hand, caught up in her trance, perhaps to touch him…

And then she saw the blood.

For a moment Mai just stared at her hand, at the blood that still stubbornly stained her fingers and her skin, and her eyes went dangerously blank again, widened slightly before clearing. Slowly, trembling, she touched her hand with her other one, tracing the patterns of the blood, and a low, whimpering cry of absolute distress escaped her.

And then, as Zuko watched, her face crumbled and she began to sob, deep, wrenching sobs that shook her whole body and tore from her throat in anguished, ragged cries as the full weight of what she'd done hit her fully.

Without thinking Zuko wrapped his arms around her and she sagged into him, too weak, too broken to even resist his advances in touching her; her fingers curled into his clothing and she buried her face in his chest as she wept for the lives she had taken, as the crime she had committed finally dawned on her animal state of mind.

In the weak, shattered silver beams of moonlight, Zuko couldn't tell if the wetness on Mai's cheeks was from her tears, the rain, or a combination of both.

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AAAAGHHHH, this chapter was a _bitch _to work on out of all of them so far. Some days I'd just sit at my computer and stare at this fic and get absolutely no inspiration for it whatsoever, but hopefully it's worth the wait. (sweatdrops) Probably doesn't help that I'm beating back numerous Sailor Moon plotbunnies, either...

Special thanks to Jai-kun, as speaking with him over the past few days finally inspired me to get this finished. An awesome writer and an awesome friend, I highly recommend any of his fics.

Read and review, please!


	7. The Pieces

_Disclaimer: _I have never owned Avatar.

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_Chapter 6: The Pieces_

The heavy pounding of rain softened as the downpour morphed into a drizzle, but Zuko paid it no mind. His clothes clung to him like a second skin, but he ignored that as well; he focused instead on Mai, running his fingers gently through her hair as she wept, and eventually her tears ceased to fall and her sobs faded away into nothing more than soft, broken whimpers. She was still shivering, though Zuko couldn't tell if it was from the emotions she'd released or from the chill of the rain. He wondered if it was possibly both.

Realizing Mai had no intention of rising on her own, Zuko retrieved her stilettos and slid them into his pack before gently sliding his arm down, gripping her back with one arm and hooking his other arm beneath her legs. He lifted her easily into his arms, keeping his hold gentle and firm; but she didn't seem to even notice what he'd done, simply slid an arm along his neck to anchor herself as she buried her face into the crook of his throat, her other hand still fisted against his shirt.

He began walking, remembering the original direction they'd been heading and that a town waited at the end of their trek.

The fact that her whimpers had finally quieted and been replaced by soft, ragged breathing soothed him.

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The predator is gone; she feels its absence within her like a wound, like a gaping hole that can never again be filled, something that was never supposed to exist in the first place. Only dimly is she aware of the fact that Zuko is carrying her, that she isn't walking on her own two feet.

She doubts she could walk on her own right now even if she wanted to.

The fever has returned, the darkness and the fire, and with it comes a primal roar from within as something inside her pounds against the gates of her mind like a savage beast desperate for entrance. With the killing of the men and the releasing of her emotions something has stirred again within her, something that has trigged the fever she fought for three days.

She knows this time is the last time. The fever has come again, but if she doesn't win this one, if she doesn't regain whatever it is she has lost, she will never be whole. Killing the men has released the storm she kept locked inside; now is time for her to deal with the aftermath, to repair the damage, whatever it may be.

_Do you want to remember?_

It's a strange feeling, being so wet and cold but feeling so hot and turbulent inside, like a clashing of wills, a war of water and fire. And through it all is the steady, firm warmth of Zuko's arms, the warmth of his skin, his scent, and the feeling of his heart beneath her hand. The familiarity of it drives her mad.

_Do you want to remember?_

_(a gurgle distracts her from the letter she's trying to write, and she looks down at the small boy tugging insistently on her leg. He grins in delight and holds up his arms expectantly, giggling. A small flash of irritation runs through her before she sighs ruefully and shakes her head, pushing the parchment away to lift the toddler into her arms, and he squeals with delight, reaching up to play with her hair as she breathes in his milky scent, and a small smile curves her lips)_

This is new, this is not a memory of the man with golden eyes or of Zuko, and somehow she knows it's a memory of her past, of her life, of who she was before she was imprisoned. It flits through her mind like a shadow and slips through her fingers before she can even make sense of it and fades away, but somehow she knows it isn't lost to her; not completely.

_Tom-Tom._

_Her brother._

_Do you want to remember?_

The colors are back, the yellows and the oranges and the reds, but this time she doesn't flinch away, she doesn't feel fear. This is it, this is her last stand, this is her now or never.

_Yes. I want to remember._

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"Oh, you poor things. You're both soaked to the bone."

The elderly woman had long, messy gray hair pulled back in a long ponytail and wrinkles around her bright green eyes, but her hands were gentle and her voice was warm. Zuko gave a weak smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, thinking of the girl in his arms. "I'm fine, really," he assured her. "But do you have somewhere for Mai? She needs to lay down for awhile."

"Of course, of course. Come this way. Riu!" She lifted her voice in a shout as she started down the hall, Zuko following her. "Did you clean out the room like I asked?"

"Yes, Grandma." The skinny boy with a narrow face had to be at least ten, Zuko guessed, and he was obviously sulking, not pleased with how he'd gotten roped into helping the strangers his grandmother had taken pity on.

Zuko only had time to dip his head in wordless thanks before he was urged into the room. He paused for a moment to survey his surroundings.

There was one bed, small and narrow, resting against the wall; a small lamp had been placed on a table by the window, and a tiny flame continued to burn on. The room was a little small and only had one bed, but Zuko wasn't going to complain. Walking quietly across the floor, he carefully set Mai down on the bed, brushing loose strands of black hair out of her eyes before pulling the covers up over her.

Her breathing was unsteady and ragged but still quiet enough to let the banished prince know she wasn't in any immediate distress. Her skin, when he touched her forehead, felt warmer than it had been before, and he wondered if her fever had in fact returned.

And if her fever had returned, he wondered what it meant for her.

"She your girl or something?"

The boy was back, leaning against the doorframe and watching the pair with a detached kind of interest; Zuko looked at him for a brief moment before turning back to Mai, running his hand through her hair in a quick gesture meant to soothe. She wasn't trembling, and he took comfort from that.

"Something like that," he murmured softly.

His girl.

Those two words didn't even do Mai justice.

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She wants to remember.

It's the first thing she can recall actually _wanting_, and it fills her with an odd sort of glee. The colors of her fever are back, and with it comes the warmth of fire and the coolness of water. Some part of her knows that these memories could break her, could bury her forever, but she has to remember. She has to _know._

They flash through her mind in a blur, eliciting a shot of heat throughout her body and a jab of cold in her chest. She isn't afraid.

Even if she remembers that no one really wanted her, no one tried to save her, she isn't afraid.

Memories, a faded jumbled blur of them. Memories of sitting against a wall and keeping silent, because that was expected of her. Remembering what it felt like to be ignored among the masses, and wondering if her existence meant anything at all. Knowing her parents loved her deep down, but also knowing they wouldn't find a way to show her anytime soon.

Different names, different voices, flashing through her head like beacons of light; and among them she can hear her own name, the name Zuko called her, among the voices she can hear her own voice, the way she sounded before she was imprisoned. Her name, leaving the lips of different people at different times, for different reasons. Her voice breaking the silence, whether she spoke to someone, laughed at something, or sang softly to herself to keep the shadows at bay.

The two young women, the pink-clad girl with dark brown hair and dancing gray eyes and the girl with black hair and golden eyes, the girl who she now knows is the daughter of the man who imprisoned her. Playing with her as children, teasing her because of her feelings for Zuko, visiting her on a regular basis even when she became something that was less of a human and more of an animal. Risking their freedom—and possibly their own lives—to help her escape from that prison.

_Azula. Ty Lee._

_("You're hopeless, you know that?"_

"_She isn't hopeless, Azula! She's just… hopelessly in love."_

_Ty Lee and Azula roar with laughter as she ducks her head, a faint blush heating her cheeks, and cursing them both she flings a small, useless knife at them even as she can feel the laugh rising in her throat; but Ty Lee dodges it easily, grinning like a monkey, and Azula just stops it in its tracks with fire, a smirk curving her lips. She doesn't destroy it, though, because she knows knives are important to her, her way of expressing herself. She knows, in her own cold way)_

_Her friends._

Her parents, her father with his stern face and deep voice and her mother with her long hair and wrinkles around her eyes. Parents that scolded instead of praised, parents that taught her to be silent instead of speaking up for herself. Parents who treated her more like a creation and less like a child.

Parents who stood off to the side and did nothing, said nothing when she was taken away.

A sharp jabbing pain in her chest makes her whimper, but her mind has one more thing to show her.

Zuko. Memories of the boy, with soft skin and gentle gold eyes that made her melt inside, a timid smile and a blush as he helped her up or grabbed her hand for some reason. Memories of the man, his skin roughened by three years of banishment and his eyes no longer gentle, but still with a timid smile and a soft touch.

Listening to him as he desperately told her about Ozai's plan to execute his uncle, offering him help even as he started to say he could do it himself. Using her skills and her speed against the prison guards, keeping them occupied as he helped Iroh escape. Coming to him, telling him it would be best if she stayed behind even as he begs her to stay.

"_I'll come back. I swear I will. Just… wait for me, and I'll come back for you."_

She has been waiting. Before this, she remembered that much.

Now she remembers. She was waiting for him.

Because she loved him.

As the memories start to fade away, as the colors drain to darkness, before she is dragged into the black she is bombarded with one more tidbit of information, one more thing that might cause her to wake as a different person.

_Mai._

Her name is Mai.

_I remember._

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The loud, obnoxious crowing of some barn animal jerked Zuko out of sleep and fully into wakefulness. His back throbbed a bit from sleeping against the wall, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been since he'd used his pack as a pillow; he rubbed the back of his neck, yawned, and rose with the intent of checking Mai.

She was still asleep, but sometime during the night her breathing had evened out and her muscles had relaxed. Zuko knelt next to her, gently stroking her cheek for a moment before checking her temperature, pleased to discover the fever was going as quickly as it had come. He rocked back on his heels for a moment as he contemplated the wisdom of waking her, then decided against it. Mai had entered the fever on her own; when she woke from it was also something she had to do herself.

"How is she?"

The voice of the elderly woman made Zuko look up; she was standing in the doorway, watching him with eyes that contained more wisdom than he could possibly understand. "She looks like she's been through a rough time," she added quietly.

"She has." Zuko ran his hand through Mai's hair in a familiar gesture before rising. "But she'll be okay now. She's just figuring out some things about herself."

The woman said nothing, though her eyes softened. After a moment, she cleared her throat. "I hate to ask a favor of you, but Riu ran off to play with some friends and I don't have the heart to break 'em up yet. Would you mind getting some water from the river? It isn't far from here."

Zuko stood. "Okay."

He needed something to do until Mai woke up, anyway.

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The sensation was akin to being thrown into deep, cold water and being left behind to flail out, to swim to the surface with lungs burning and vision dimming. Her hearing was muffled and she couldn't breathe, but she fought to break free, to reach the surface. She was close. So close.

Just the fact that her mindset had changed showed it.

_I am Mai._

Everything within her surged forward, clamoring to reach the light, the surface, to break free and breathe.

_I remember._

The breath whistled painfully through her lungs; her eyes snapped open and stung as the light hit them full on, her first time actually _seeing _anything properly. She jerked up with a gasp, her whole body slick with sweat, her breathes coming in heaves. Her head was spinning and her stomach rolled within her. Every muscle in her body was screaming in agony, as if she'd fought a powerful enemy.

Breathing hard, her legs shaking, she stumbled off the bed and staggered down the hall, keeping one arm braced against the wall to support herself. She found something that seemed to resemble a household bathroom and stumbled inside, falling to her knees. A half empty bucket of water was in the corner; with trembling fingers she grabbed it and pulled it to her, dipping her hands into the water and splashing her face. Wiping water out of her eyes with the back of her hand, she stared at her reflection for a moment.

A small, tired smile curved her lips as water dripped from her hair and ran down her face.

"I'm Mai." Her voice was hoarse, ragged from disuse, but it sounded like music to her ears. "I've been gone for too long."

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This chapter is DONE! FINALLY! (dies)

And can I say OMFG EPIC ENDING? SERIOUSLY? The movie... THE MOVIE! I sense Kataang and Maiko love babies in the near future. And Mai is made of so much win, her line of "Don't you ever break up with me again" after Frenching Zuko made up for her not having a larger role.

Read and review, please!


	8. The Moment

_Disclaimer: _I do not own Avatar or its characters.

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_Chapter 7: The Moment_

Because the water felt cool against her skin, Mai gave in to the urge and splashed her face a second time, inhaling deeply. Her throat felt sore and dry from weeks of silence, but she didn't think drinking from a bucket in a bathroom was the best idea.

Her body ached and throbbed as if she'd fought Ozai herself. Her ribs in particular were sore and made breathing a little difficult, in the place where the man she'd killed the other night had struck her. Mai ran a hand through her hair and shook her head like a dog, sending droplets of water through the air. Grimacing, she braced her arm against the wall and staggered to her feet, barely keeping from falling flat on her face.

"Um, ow. Ow, ow, ow."

It bothered her a little, how she'd gone from being perfectly coordinated in her animal state of mind to stumbling over her feet like Tom-Tom with her clarity restored. Perhaps that had been because she hadn't been totally aware of herself. Mai wasn't completely sure.

Taking a deep breath, Mai came to the conclusion that what she was going to depend on from now on was luck, stubborn will, and a desperate, driving urge to find Zuko. Narrowing her eyes she gripped the side of the sink with her free hand and took tentative baby steps out of the bathroom, moving slowly so her body could get reacquainted with itself. The process was slow and painful, but Mai discovered she was satisfied to take every small victory her body was willing to give her.

Slowly, cautiously stepping through the broken shadows of the hallway, her confidence returned; gradually her arm slid down from the wall to dangle in its natural place at her side, and while her muscles still ached and throbbed from time to time it had ebbed into something she could easily ignore. She swallowed a few times, wincing a little as her throat burned in protest, and ran her tongue over her dry lips.

In time she found herself in what seemed to be the kitchen of the small house; she stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at the open space blankly as her mind failed her for a moment, and her eyes narrowed as she scrambled to recall exactly what a kitchen was used for in the still-murky depths of her mind.

Oh. Right. The kitchen was the place where food was made and eaten. Meals with family and friends were eaten around a large table. Yes. She remembered now.

It looked as if some things would still return to her slower than others. It didn't bother her, though. She was starting to remember, and she remembered who she was and the life she had led, and that was all that really mattered.

A headache beginning to form behind her temples made Mai mutter unintelligently as pain hammered against her skull, and with a tired sigh she shuffled across the floor and settled on one of the chairs, leaning back and closing her eyes. Giving in to her emotions for a rare moment she leaned forward, slumping against the table, and pounded a clenched fist against her knees as her eyes stung.

Her headache only grew worse, and she realized that if she didn't give the pain in her head some kind of release it would only increase.

The restoration of her memories and her sudden clarity had done nothing to dim the memories, nothing to dull the sharp edge of them. In fact, her new peace of mind made them even stronger than before. She remembered every detail; the darkness of the shadows, the taste of the food, the sound and squeaks of the rats, the different sounds of footsteps. The laughter, the babbling.

And Ozai.

She remembered Ozai.

The silky smoothness of his voice as he tried to bribe the answers out of her, smooth talk his way through her defenses. The force of his backhand, the cold fire that could flare to life in his eyes.

She could still feel the throbbing from the bruises on her neck, bruises inflicted by his hand. But that wasn't the only place where she ached, no.

Between her legs.

She _burned_ between her legs, like fire, like something was intent on entering her and burning her alive from the inside out merely for the pleasure of hearing her screams, feeling her struggle, the pleasure of seeing the life slowly but surely drain from her eyes.

_Oh, Agni…_

The tears fell; Mai wasn't even completely aware of the fact that the ragged, hoarse sobs of anguish were her own. The grief, the self-hatred was like a hurricane, sweeping ruthlessly through her system and battering everything, ripping her apart and crushing her in its fury. Now that she remembered, now that she was _Mai _again, she had to grieve. She had to grieve, even if only for a little while, for the loss of her innocence, for what she had been robbed of and for the shattered illusion of the woman she could never be again.

As quickly as the grief came, it also passed. In her customary way, despite her pain, she accepted what had happened to her wordlessly. She didn't ask why, she didn't rage; she simply accepted and locked it away, like her parents had taught her. She accepted it because she knew if she didn't, it would destroy her again.

With that her sobs slowly faded away into soft sniffles, and it was in that moment that she was aware of a warm, soft hand on her shoulder. Blinking, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, Mai looked up.

"Here, little one." The old woman's eyes were impossibly gentle, the cup she held in her hand warm from the tea she'd just finished brewing; she held it out to Mai. "Drink. It will soothe your throat."

Wordlessly Mai nodded, not trusting herself to speak; she mouthed a silent thank you as she cradled the cup in her hands, bringing it to her lips and drinking the warm liquid within gratefully. The tea sipped quietly down her throat and soothed the ache. She drank deeply, and when she lowered the cup back to the table the warmth had drowned out the pain.

The old woman had turned away, washing some dishes from last night; swallowing, Mai cleared her throat and asked, "Where is Zuko?"

"Ah, yes, your young man, am I right?"

"Um…" Oh, what the heck. "That's one way of putting it, I guess."

Her older companion chuckled softly. "Is that so? Well, I sent him out to get some water from the river. It isn't far from here if you want to look for him."

Nodding, Mai stood. "Thanks for the tea."

The hoarseness was fading from her voice, the strength slowly returning; the old woman heard rather than saw her leave, and her lips curved in a silent smile.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_The sunlight felt warm and gentle against her skin, and Mai lifted her hand for a moment, shielding her eyes as she scanned the land.

The old woman's words had been true; the river wasn't very far from the house at all. All the dark-haired girl had to do to reach it was wander through a small, thin group of trees. She listened to the quiet crunch of leaves beneath her feet and ran her fingers along the worn bark of a tree, breathing in the forest scents.

And then the trees parted, and she saw Zuko.

He knelt by the stream, carefully running a bucket through the water to get as much of it as he could without spilling much. He'd rolled his sleeves up to keep them from getting wet, and water dripped from his fingers. His eyes were narrow with concentration.

Ozai's blood ran through his veins. But he was, and always would be, just Zuko.

The revelation that she could see Zuko, know that part of him came from Ozai, and not feel that terrifying fear, that dark hatred made something warm and gentle bloom in Mai's chest and seep into her blood. Her eyes softened slightly even as her lips quirked, an evil idea taking form.

Stepping lightly to keep quiet, the dark-haired girl moved closer to Zuko and, in one smooth motion, pushed him into the river.

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Zuko's first thought as he plunged into the cold, clear water with a yelp was that it had been the kid who had done it; the boy, Riu, the grandson of the woman who had been kind enough to take him and Mai in. He shot through the surface with revenge on his mind, swallowing water as he dragged in a breath.

And froze, on his knees and dripping wet, when he saw Mai standing there.

There was a clearness in her gaze, a certainty in the way she stood that told him something had changed; but his throat closed up and all the words he wanted to say were trapped. Mai's gaze slowly swept over him, and he could have sworn he saw her lips twitch. Remembering himself he lurched to his feet, nearly slipping on the wet rocks and falling again. "Mai."

Her eyes flickered when he said her name, and this time her lips curved in a smile that was almost timid but undeniably sad. "It's been a long time," she murmured.

His eyes widened; he stared dumbly. Her voice was rough and hoarse, sounding only faintly as he remembered, but he didn't care. Mai had spoken. She had _spoken. _Which meant…

Slowly, cautiously, he waded out of the river and walked to her, aware of the water dripping from his hair and running down his face, the wet clothes that clung to him like a second skin, but he ignored it and stood before her. She watched him quietly but did not back away, and that soothed him.

Still moving slowly, Zuko lifted his arms and gently wrapped them around Mai; he felt her stiffen slightly and tremble before her hands came up against his chest, but she met his gaze evenly. Zuko kept his grip light and loose, giving Mai the choice to escape if she needed to. Slowly the stiffness melted away, though she didn't lean against him like she'd done in the past, and the tremors faded as she grew accustomed to the feeling of being held. Her fingers fisted in his shirt and held on as she quietly nuzzled into his neck, though she still kept a measured distance between her body and his.

Zuko smiled against her hair. "I missed you."

Mai laughed softly. "I missed you, too." She sighed. "And I missed me."

But now she was back. And she wasn't going away ever again.

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Next chapter's the epilogue, folks.

Read and review, please!


	9. Epilogue

_Disclaimer: _I don't own Avatar.

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_Epilogue_

_Azula and Ty Lee,_

_If you managed to get your hands on this letter, then it means that the messenger hawk Zuko stole from the military outpost we were hiding out at for a few days is the genuine thing and not some young chick that just started training. And if that's true, then I don't feel like a total idiot for practicing my writing before I started this._

_Yes, I had to practice writing again. Yes, I know my handwriting is still horrible compared to what it used to be. Accept it._

_Zuko and I left the village a few weeks ago and we've been on the road ever since. No one pays us much attention and we keep to ourselves, so I doubt we'll end up back in the hands of the Fire Nation anytime soon. However, the way Zuko has been thinking lately, I somehow doubt we'll be enjoying this quiet life for much longer. Summer is coming to an end, and with its end comes Sozin's Comet. And of course, we all know in our little group that the Avatar is nowhere near ready to face Fire Lord Ozai in his current condition._

_Zuko wants to find him and train him in the art of Firebending. He probably won't receive a warm welcome, but his heart's in the right place… which is more than I can say for his brain sometimes. I will, of course, accompany him. I have no intention of returning home or continuing to Iroh by myself. And to be honest, everything seems much easier to endure with Zuko by my side._

_Yes, I realize that this means I'll sooner or later come face-to-face with Ozai himself. No, I haven't figured out what I'm going to do yet when I see him. I suppose I'll have to figure it out when I finally see him._

_I have no intentions of getting in contact with my family, so please don't let them know I've written to you. To be honest, I'm hoping to avoid them altogether until the war ends._

_So yes. This is my way of letting you know I'm still alive._

_-Mai_

Reading the letter for perhaps the third time since receiving it, Azula quietly suppressed a smirk before folding the paper and sliding it into her desk, leaning back in her chair. The slope of the hand might have been a bit shakier than she remembered, but the tone was exactly the same as it had always been. Mai could still be unsure of herself and the path she was walking, but through it all she was still Mai.

It was comforting to know her father hadn't destroyed that, among other things.

"Reading Mai's letter again?"

The amused tone of Ty Lee's voice made Azula smile even as the acrobat slid easily from behind her, trailing a hand along the princess's shoulder in a greeting. "Can't help it," the dark-haired girl replied easily, leaning back in her chair slightly. "After seeing her the way she was for so long, it's comforting to know she's almost back to normal."

"Oh my, Azula." Ty Lee laughed. "You almost sound like you care."

"Careful, if anyone outside the palace knows it'll be a disaster."

Ty Lee laughed again, and Azula smiled.

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"You're all sweaty."

Amused, Zuko hurled the old towel he'd been using to rub his face after practicing with his broadswords; the days were slowly but surely cooling down as summer neared its end, but it was still warm enough for him to work up a sweat. Foreseeing his action, Mai easily sidestepped before sending a stiletto flying into a nearby tree, smirking with satisfaction as the small blade hit its target dead on.

It had taken her a shockingly long time to become skilled at her art; what had come to her freely in her animal state of mind during her first days of freedom had grown difficult with her sanity restored. She'd picked it back up quickly enough, but it had taken time and patience to get her stilettos flying true to their target again.

She had the scars on her fingers and palms to prove it.

Pausing for a moment, Mai retrieved the towel and threw it back to Zuko, who caught it in one hand; she walked easily to the tree and pulled the stiletto loose, twirling it between her fingers idly as bits of bark rained down to the grass below. He expected her to go back to her training—she'd been following a strict ritual since her memories had returned—but she surprised him as she sat cross-legged on the grass, seemed to think for a moment, and flopped onto her back, rolling easily onto her side and tucking her hand beneath her cheek.

Concerned, Zuko lowered his swords and walked to her, sitting quietly next to her; after a moment Mai shifted slightly, and her head rested comfortably in his lap, her hand gripping his knee tightly. He covered it with his own, and felt the tension singing through her body like blood. "Mai?"

"… I really don't know what I'll do when I see him."

Mai's voice was soft, low; she closed her eyes and shuddered briefly, and Zuko gently stroked her hair, narrowing his eyes in concern. "Mai, if you want to go on to Uncle—"

"No." Here, at least, she was certain; here, she had no doubts. "I'm not running away from him, Zuko. Not after all this. I don't know what'll happen when I see him, but _know _I can't run away from him. I _won't _run away from him."

"If you do that, he wins."

"Yes."

There was a moment of silence; Zuko sighed heavily, and Mai opened her eyes, tilting her head slightly to look up at him. "Zuko?"

"It's something you need to do. I get that." He smiled down at her. "So, I won't ask you about it again." He shrugged, running his fingers through her hair. "I trust you, Mai."

For a long moment she stared up at him; her eyes softened, and she smiled slightly.

"Thank you, Zuko."

They gazed at each other for a few minutes; then, in a leap of faith, Mai gently lifted her hand and touched the back of Zuko's neck, pulling his head down. Their eyes closed as their lips met.

It was a chaste kiss, nothing like what they'd done before in the course of their relationship; Mai was still figuring out her own boundaries. And though it was chaste, nothing but skin, the warmth was there, the love, the emotions.

That was all that mattered.

They parted quietly, wordlessly; Mai sat up and scooted closer, leaning back and resting her cheek against Zuko's as his arms wound silently around her waist, and they sat that way for a long, wordless moment.

Mai still didn't know what she'd do when she saw Ozai.

But in the end, he hadn't won.

That was all that mattered.

**The End**

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And so that's it. The story's done. Over. No more.

I realize that I didn't tie up all loose ends here (Mai meeting Ozai), but the main focus on this story was Mai finding herself again; and she does. So there.

...

For some reason, I loved writing this chapter. Even if it's short.

Thank you to all who reviewed and read. And, for the last time... read and review, please!


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